Harry Potter and the Rise of Charon
by The Quill of Gryffindor
Summary: Set a couple of weeks after D.O.M. Harry is depressed and blaming himself, but that changes when he recieves a package. A package holding memories. What do the memories hold? Dark Harry!
1. Chapter 1

**Harry Potter and the Rise of Charon**

**Chapter One: Total Recall…**

Hello my loyal fans! I realise I have been...somewhat tardy with additions to my stories, which I apologise for. I did not have continuous access to the internet and could not update my stories. However, this meant I could go back and see how rushed some of them were. Now, this one has been a real favourite for me and I'm enjoying writing the story no-end!

This chapter is mostly just corrections, but I would ask that you read it all from the beginning please! Enjoy!

* * *

_Harry saw Sirius duck Bellatrix's jet of red light: he was laughing at her._

"_Come on, you can do better than that!" he yelled, his voice echoing around the cavernous room._

_The second jet of light hit him squarely on the chest._

_It seemed to take Sirius an age to fall: his body curved in a graceful arc as he sank backwards through the ragged veil hanging from the arch._

_Harry heard Bellatrix Lestrange's triumphant scream, but he knew it meant nothing – Sirius had only fallen through the archway, he would reappear from the other side any second…_

_But Sirius did not reappear._

"_SIRIUS!" Harry yelled. "SIRIUS!"_

Harry's eyes shot open and sat bolt upright. He was breathing erratically and shuddered. Looking down at his clothes, he realised he was drenched in cold sweat. He got off his bed and moved to his desk. Picking up a quill he added another notch on a piece of parchment.

'That's the twenty-third time I've seen Sirius die' he thought sadly.

He toyed with the idea that perhaps Voldemort was sending him visions to taunt him, but he knew the reality of the nightmares; it was his guilty conscience. Every time he slept it forced him to relive the horrible moment of his godfather's demise, silently blaming him for the D.O.M incident.

He should have been living with Sirius. This summer would have been brilliant. He would have been living with his godfather in Grimmauld Place, bonding, and catching up on the twelve lost years. As he thought about it, his face burned with a new wave of tears.

Pushing those thoughts to the back of his mind, his emotions all but disappeared. That was the consequence of quelling his thoughts of Sirius. He couldn't feel much of anything else.

There was, however one persistent emotion which bubbled up quite frequently; hatred, pure unbridled hatred. Yet there was never a focus for his hate. It was as though Harry had forgotten who he hated and what for, like it had been erased. It seemed, however, that his subconscious knew who he hated, and every time he became angry was his mind trying to tell him who.

Rifling through his draws and finding another piece of parchment, he began to write a letter. He wasn't sure who to at first, but he needed to talk to someone.

'Dumbledore perhaps'

_No, don't be stupid_ his inner voice snapped.

'What about Remus?'

_Can we trust him? Yeah he was a friend of dad's but he is an Order member first and full most._

'Ron?'

_To quote Hermione, 'Ronald, you have the emotional range of a teaspoon!'_ Harry chuckled internally at his best friend's insult.

Suddenly, his eyes lit up in realisation. Dipping his quill, he began to write. After about ten minutes, he looked over what he had written to his best friend.

_Dear Hermione._

_Hi Hermione! I just want to tell you straight off the bat, to not tell anyone what I'm writing about here. I'm writing to you because I trust you. _

_I'm having a few problems. I'm still sad about Sirius dying, but that isn't the only issue. I know I was angry last year, but it's gotten much worse. It surfaces much more frequently than it did. The thing is, though, that I don't know why I'm angry. It just bubbles up. I feel as though I have forgotten who I was angry with…but that's probably me being silly._

_I really need your help, Mione. It feels so wrong to be angry but there is part of me that just wants release. I need help Hermione and I'm turning to you because you're my best friend and always give me great advice._

_I can't wait to hear from you._

_Your best friend,_

_Harry._

Looking it over once more, he folded the parchment and walked over to Hedwig's cage. At the moment, she was sleeping, holding her head under her wing. Unsure how to wake her, Harry gave a little trick he found in a book he read a try. Whistling a shrill but beautiful attempt at birdsong, Hedwig unfurled and looked at him with those huge amber eyes. Harry smiled, giving his owl a little scratch under the beak and an owl treat.

"Hiya beautiful, can you take this letter to Hermione for me?"

The owl hooted softly and gave Harry an affectionate nip to his finger. Tying the letter to her foot, Hedwig swooped out the window and into the morning air. Harry watched her go, and sighed. He glanced around his empty room. It was extremely lonely. Not that he wanted any of his relatives for company, but it was depressing being left to his thoughts.

After a few minutes had passed, Harry laid down on his bed. He stared at the mucky white ceiling, not really seeing it. As he lay there, he began to reflect on his life.

'To be perfectly honest,' Harry mused, 'it's been shit, hasn't it?' He shifted uncomfortably on the lumpy mattress. 'I mean, stuck here for eleven years, being abused, emotionally and physically for being a freak; _then_ I get told I'm actually _not_ normal but 'special'.' The last word was laced with sarcasm.

As he thought, he remembered when Hagrid had first told him what he was:

"_Harry – yer a wizard." Hagrid said proudly._

"_I'm a what?" gasped Harry_

"_A wizard, o' course, an' a thumpin' good'un, I'd say, once yeh've been trained up a bit."_

Harry smiled wryly. That was the day everything had changed for Harry Bloody Potter. In the space of a day, he was thrown into the wizarding world, surrounded by people who wanted to shake his hand. 'Oh mercy me, it's Harry Potter!' 'Ooh, look, it's 'The Boy Who Lived'!'

Sometimes he felt like he was trapped in some glass case in a zoo. His mind wandered to the day he went to the zoo with his relatives and unleashed the snake from its glass case. He laughed slightly remembering his cousin's face when he fell into the enclosure.

He hated every minute of his fame. He would give anything to blend into the woodwork, live his life peacefully and enjoy one normal school year.

'And don't get me started on Hogwarts!' Harry thought angrily. 'Every year I get roped into some stupid fight to 'protect the wizarding world' and all that bollocks.' He lay on his bed, fuming quietly.

'I wonder if Voldemort would consider leaving me alone if I just left.' He thought curiously. He shot down that thought as quickly as soon as it had left his subconscious. 'He would never leave me be. 'Neither can live while the other survives…' Sometimes I just want to bludgeon Trelawney.' He thought darkly. 'I couldn't abandon everyone either…especially Hermione.' He smiled in contentment.

Whenever he thought about Hermione his angry thoughts just dissipated. He wasn't sure what it was, but he felt unusually calm and happy around the bushy haired witch.

'Her hair isn't bushy,' he mentally berated, 'it's just…untameable and wild!' He smiled as he thought about how beautiful his friend looked the last time he saw her. 'Wait a minute! Where the hell did that come from?' He thought, surprised at his mind. The inner voice began to question him again.

_Well, do you think she's beautiful?_

'I – I – she's my best friend! I shouldn't be thinking about things like that.'

_That wasn't the question. Do you think she's beautiful? _He stopped and thought deeply for a moment, before sighing.

'Of course she's beautiful. She's bloody gorgeous, and with a mind to match!' Even though he had just thought it, he was still surprised with himself. If he could see his inner voice, he was certain it would be grinning smugly.

_Have you ever told her that you think that? I mean, she IS a beautiful witch. ANYONE could snap her up before you get a chance. _Harry sat there, deep in thought. Finally, he responded.

'Well, no, I haven't; I didn't think she would like me.'

_Well, you don't know until you try, do you? _He nodded reflectively. The voice was right. He sighed again, before addressing the voice.

'Fine, next time I see her, I will tell her. Are you satisfied?'

_Yes, but I'll be making sure you follow through. _Pushing those thoughts away, he began to reflect once more on the topic he had chosen before he got side-tracked.

Before he could do any more musing on the unfairness of his life, a beautiful golden eagle swooped into the room, carrying a package. Needless to say, Harry was a bit surprised, which made him fall off his bed and hit the floor with a thud. Rubbing his spine with a grimace, he looked up at the beautiful bird before him, which was looking at him intently. He gingerly retrieved the box from the eagle, which, giving a shrill squawk, took off flying out the window.

He blinked for a moment, at the spot the bird had just vacated, before looking at the box in more detail. It was wrapped in brown parcel paper and tied up with string. Not seeing a note, Harry gently pulled the string, allowing the wrapping to fall. He went to touch it but paused for a moment.

'What will I do if it's cursed or something?' He thought nervously. His inner voice piped up.

_God, you're a bloody coward! Won't talk to Hermione, won't look at the mysterious box… take a risk; live a little! _On the last word, he knew the voice was right. Yes, it COULD be a trap or cursed, but no one who would curse it knew he lived here. If any death eaters did know, he saw sure they would just storm in and kill him.

With a deep breath, he gingerly lifted the lid of the box and looked inside. There was a small stone bowl, five small vials, four filled with a whitish liquid, and a letter with a wax seal. Picking up the letter first, he broke the seal and began to skim the page quickly.

_Greetings Harry James Potter,_

_Yes, I know who you are and yes, I know where you live. Do not worry though, my friend, your secret is safe with me. I'm sure you already considered this box to be some sort of Death Eater trap, but don't you think if they knew where you were, they would just kill you? Anyway, back to the letter. _

_I have some very disturbing information for you, which is contained within the box. Inside it are four vials along with a stone pensieve. The four vials contain memories you should place into the bowl. _

_The pensieve, however, is not an ordinary one; once the memories of a specific person are placed into it, it will try to replace them in the consciousness of the correct individual when they use it. Yes, I am insinuating someone has robbed you of your memories. But not just you; your friend Hermione has also suffered. When you get the chance, she should do the same as you will be doing soon enough._

_Simply, you should place the memories into the bowl and stick your head in. The memories will replace the gaps in your subconscious, performing a total recall. You probably won't see anything during this process, unlike a normal pensieve in which you review memories. You should feel a rushing sensation and may see some blurred fragments. You should have a slight headache afterwards. _

_Once these memories have been reviewed by you and Hermione, they will evaporate and the bowl will disintegrate. Receiving these memories is vital; it will implicate a person who you used to trust, but you now are beginning to question._

_Just to further confirm that I'm here to help you and not hurt or kill you, by doing this you will get an answer to a question which has been plaguing you. You know that anger you've been feeling, the misplaced hatred which has no target? This procedure will give you the cause of that anger, a person you will hate for the rest of your days._

_Good luck, Harry Potter._

_Your anonymous friend and ally_

After finishing the letter, he read it several more times, before dropping it to the floor. His hands were shaking and his face was pale.

'How could someone know all this?' Some of the information in that letter he hadn't even realised himself until a few hours ago. Was someone watching him? His inner voice piped up.

_It's entirely possible, but somehow I doubt it. Maybe they just know you really well? They could pick it up before even you knew yourself? _Harry considered this for a moment before nodding.

'It's a possibility.' He glanced to the box. 'What about the pensieve?'

_Well, memories can't really hurt the mind, not physically. The images could be disturbing but that's about it. With these sorts of pensieves, if the memories don't belong, they won't attach themselves to the user. I think it's worth the risk. _Thinking about this for a moment, he nodded. His inner voice was sometimes impulsive, but it often produced a logical argument.

Opening the box, Harry lifted a stone bowl out and placed it on his desk. As he pulled each vial out individually, he looked at the contents. A swirling white cloud which never seemed to settle floated around the flask. After a moment of silent contemplation, he uncorked one of the vials and poured it into the stone bowl.

It swirled around for a moment, before it settled into a flat pool of water. Harry was unsure how to proceed; in the meetings with Dumbledore, they could only watch one memory at a time. Listening out for his inner voice for some advice, it was silent. With a shrug of his shoulders, he uncorked another and poured the ethereal contents into the basin. He watched in anticipation. The two memories intermingled before separating and swirling on opposite sides of the glassy surface.

Taking this as a good sign, Harry proceeded to empty the two other vials in and waited. They all settled and swirled around the bowl in a clockwise direction. Preparing to use the basin, he placed his hands on either side of the bowl, bracing himself, before he paused.

'What am I doing?' He thought nervously. 'This is probably some stupid trap! God, I wish Hermione was here…' Harry jumped when his inner voice snapped at him.

_For pities sake, just put your goddamn head in the bowl, you bloody wimp! _He waited for a moment before giving a loud sigh and dunking his head below the surface.

As soon as his face was immersed in the liquid, he felt excruciating pain. He instinctively pulled back, but was unable to disengage from the bowl. Suddenly, his mind was swamped with hundreds of images flashing past his eyes. The pain was beyond anything he had experienced in his life. His body tried to let out a scream but it was silent below the surface of the water.

All of a sudden, he was ejected from the bowl and landed on his back completely immobilised.

Tears poured down his face while his mouth opened and closed, with no speech coming out. His reaction, however, was not from the pain, but from the memories that had shot past his eyes. As he lay prone on the floor, the words of the letter floated through his head:

"_You know that anger you've been feeling, the misplaced hatred which has no target? This procedure will give you the cause of that anger, a person you will hate for the rest of your days." _

His face contorted into a look of pure fury and his eyes burned with intense anger. The letter was right; one name and one name alone came up in his memories. Harry growled and spat out the name like it was poisonous.

"_Dumbledore…"_

He stood up and his hands began to shake uncontrollably. His fists clenched tightly and after a quick glance he noticed they had begun to glow an ominous green. Remembering his occlumency, he forced his emotions down and began to calm immediately. After a few soothing breaths, he grabbed a towel from the side of his room and wiped his sweaty face.

Walking over to the pensieve, he removed the various memory strings and placed them back into their vials. Finishing that, he packed the items back into the wooden box, placed it at the bottom of his trunk, before he flopped back down to the bed.

While he lay on the bed, looking through the memories, he didn't notice his bedroom door slam open. A large, purple-faced Uncle Vernon stood blocking the doorway.

"BOY, WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING UP HERE?"

Harry looked toward the door; giving his uncle a fleeting glance, before hundreds of memories rushed past his eyes, all involving one Vernon Dursley. Collapsing to his knees, he screamed in pain and terror as he relived every one of the memories in a flash. As the memories flew by, he was able to single out a particular one and focus on it.

_Harry sat crying in his Cupboard-Under-The-Stairs, curled up in a foetal position. He knew it was only a matter of time before his uncle would come thudding through the house, tear open the door to his room, drag him out and beat him. _

_Soon the unmistakeable noises of the man he feared more than any other footfalls echoed. Soon the door was wrenched open and he was dragged out by a purple faced, maniacal looking Vernon._

"_You can't hide from me, freak. Now you'll know what happens to little freaks that run away and hide!"_

_Usually, when he was beaten, Harry let himself go limp and accepted the punishment. He was able to push his mind out of his body, so as to not feel the hits as they came, but watch the event from afar. That was how it had been for years._

_This time, however, was different. _

_In the back of his mind, all the hatred he had for his relatives pooled together uncontrollably, making him blind with rage. For the first time in his life, he felt powerful, able to fight back._

_Harry's eyes changed colour and began to glow an icy blue. His hands began to radiate a green aura, visible to his uncle. He smiled evilly, stood up, his hands glowing with this new found power. Raising his left hand he pointed a single finger at his uncle. Vernon backed away, completely terrified by this change in events. He laughed at the fear on his face, before speaking._

"_My turn," he whispered in a melodic sing song voice._

_All of a sudden, his uncle screamed in pain, as what felt like hundreds of needles stabbing into his skin, tore through his nerves. Harry cackled evilly as his uncle writhed and bellowed in pure pain. While he held the torture, the front door crashed open and a bearded man stepped in._

_Harry's eyes shot to the newcomer and narrowed. The old man, wearing bright purple robes with colourful patterns smiled warmly at him. Bringing his hands together, he clapped patronisingly._

"_Congratulations Harry, wandless magic at your age! It's brilliant; you would be a prodigy before you arrive at Hogwarts!"_

_Harry was unsure what the man was talking about, but his mind told him not to trust this deceptive man. Before he could react to the presence, the man flashed a stick and Harry fell paralysed to the floor. Unable to do anything, he heard the man speak to his uncle._

"_The spell will end in half an hour. Do what you need to do." He looked to Harry. "Harry, my boy, I hope you realise this is for your own good; _Obliviate."

As he recovered from the flashes of memory, he stared at his open palms, crying as the pain of his childhood came flooding back. How could he have forgotten? His uncle had given him the worst beatings he had ever received after that 'outburst'. He could recall that he had received many serious injuries; three broken ribs, a broken arm, seven broken fingers and belt lashings across his back.

The _venerable_ headmaster had simply waited for his uncle to finish, before taking him to Hogwarts to be healed. After all, his precious weapon couldn't be injured beyond use. That would be unacceptable.

His eyes stung with burning tears and his hands clenched once more, shaking violently at the graphic memories he had just received. His anger was shouting out in his mind, calling for blood of those who had hurt him, called him freak, stopped his revenge and then stolen his memories.

"I said, what are you doing up here, freak?"

Remembering he was not alone, his eyes trailed to the door. His walrus of an uncle stood blocking the doorway with a smug smile on his face. All the years of abuse and neglect finally rushed forward and merged into one super charged emotion.

His uncle, meanwhile simply watched the boy writhe in pain after they had made eye contact. It made him feel powerful; watching the freak squirm on the floor and a large smug smile crossed his face.

'Maybe I've finally broken him.' He thought cruelly. He watched as the boy stopped screaming and stared at his hands. Vernon's eyes narrowed when he saw him tense up and shake for some unknown reason. Remembering why he came up, he addressed the boy again.

"I said, what are you doing up here, freak?" His voice was dangerous sounding, promising future beatings if he did not answer.

Finally, the boy's head turned to meet his own, and he nearly fainted in fear. His entire body began to glow an eerie green and his eyes were a stark icy blue; just as they had been when he was eight. Harry struggled to his feet and stood facing his uncle, admiring the aura surrounding his hands.

Like the bony finger of the Reaper, he pointed his hand accusingly at his uncle, just like he had done all those years before.

Vernon backed out of the room as far as possible, before hitting the opposite wall in the corridor. As Harry began to advance on him, he whispered something to his uncle, making his blood freeze and a whimper pass his lips.

"My turn,"

* * *

The Dursleys sat in the living room of number four watching the national BBC news. The sound of the television was only interrupted by various comments made by Vernon on the current subject the newsreader was discussing.

This year, Vernon had been adopting an 'ignore Harry' attitude, which was summarily adopted by Petunia and Dudley. The boy only came down to do his chores (which had been substantially reduced after the threats they had received from those other freaks) and eat, before he retreated back upstairs.

As per their agreement, Harry wouldn't make any noise and they would generally leave him alone. This had been the case for the last few weeks, but for the past ten minutes a number of loud noises had been coming from the boy's room. Finally reaching the end of his tether (which wasn't very long) Vernon's face turned a dark purple and he stood up.

"That ruddy Freak and his noise," Vernon growled dangerously, "I'm going to make that little bastard regret irritating me today." Having alerted all to his intentions, he waddled out of the room and thudded up the stairs.

Petunia vaguely heard the bedroom door slam open and her husband shout, but she was ignoring what was happening. For a few minutes, the house was silent, with only the sound of the television breaking it.

"_In other news, the weather in England has experienced a sharp drop in temperature, and become extremely unpredictable, despite it being the middle of summer. The country has been witnessing some of the worst weather for nearly ten years, while experts are at a loss to explain why the meteorological conditions have changed so dramatically these past months…"_

"AAAAAAHHH" Vernon's petrified scream echoed throughout the house, covering the sounds from the television set.

Petunia turned her head to the doorway leading to the stairs, just in time to see her husband rolling down the stairs and hitting the floor with a sickening thud. Her hands shot to her mouth and she stood up. Was he dead? A painful groan came from the body lying tangled at the bottom of the stairs suggested otherwise and she raced to his side.

Kneeling down next to the prone body of her husband, she glanced up the stairs to see a sight which made her heart skip a beat. There was a glowing figure, with an ethereal green aura surrounding him stood at the top of the stairs, staring at them both.

His face was contorted into a demented smirk and his eyes were icy blue. Unsure who it was, she gasped when she caught the sight of a lightning bolt shaped scar. She started shaking in terror, as he began to descent the stairs toward her. Forgetting her husband, she stood up and ran back into the living room, eliciting an evil cackle from Harry.

As he reached the bottom step, he sneered at his uncle's battered, unconscious form. Purposefully stepping on his arm, putting his full weight on it, the bones made a sickening crack which made the man cry out in agony. With a demented smile, he moved on, stepping into the living room after his aunt.

Both she and Dudley sat huddled in the corner, completely terrified by the boy they had abused for most of his life. He grinned sadistically, pointing his hand at them.

"P-please Harry," His aunt said tearfully, "w-were sorry, just p-please s-stop." His hand dropped slightly as he considered her plea before a voice interrupted from behind.

"Die you f-f-freak!" His uncle spat.

Harry span around to meet the voice, but was stopped as a sharp pain passed through his chest. Looking down, he could see the handle of a kitchen knife sticking out, with only a small portion of the blade showing.

Ignoring the blade, he looked back up to see his uncle shuffling back in fear. He panicked when he realised his entire plan to stop the boy had failed when his face contorted into a look of rage and hate. With a flick of his hand, his uncle flew from one side of the room to the other, hitting the wall with a sickening crunch, smashing a large mirror.

Harry turned to face his relatives, his teeth gritted and his eyes filled with fury. With a flick of his wrist, his uncle was picked up and pinned flat against the wall. Looking at his aunt, he sneered in disgust before speaking.

"No Aunt Petunia, you aren't sorry. You could never be sorry. After the way you have treated me for fifteen years you expect me to be merciful?!" He spat. She whimpered and sobbed quietly. "No. I won't stop." Turning his attention back to his uncle, he grinned evilly.

With another flick of his wrist, his uncle screamed in pain. His nerves endings began to burn as sharp stabbing sensations racked his body. Tears poured down his moustached face as he bellowed his lungs out. Letting down the torture for a moment, his uncle began to plead with him.

"B-boy, p-please stop, please…I'll d-do anything." He cried. Harry stepped right up to him and looked into his eyes and whispered in his ear.

"You're too late uncle…fifteen years too late." The torture began again and his limbs flailed around as they burned in pain.

While he tortured his uncle, Dudley realised he could escape. He crawled across the floor, moving slowly toward the door and freedom. However, as he neared his goal, he felt his feet being dragged back by something, crushing his ankle as it did.

Harry used his magic to drag the fat teen back to his spot next to his aunt, before placing them both in tightly tied magical ropes. He manoeuvred them so they were forced to watch their uncle under torture. Ceasing the man's torture for a moment, he stepped over to Dudley and punched him in the face, knocking him to the floor. Pulling him back up he glared angrily at his cousin.

"Come now Dudley, you wouldn't want to leave before your turn, would you?" He said in a childish voice, sporting a maniacal grin.

Turning once more to Vernon, he continued his torture. While he had been doing this, his uncle's heart began pumping uncontrollably fast, verging on a heart attack. Before that could happen, however, after the years of abuse from greasy foods and lack of exercise, his veins and arteries began to rupture across his body from the strain.

In a few moments, his skin turned a dark crimson as the blood pooled beneath the surface. With a final rattled breath, Vernon Dursley breathed his last and he fell limp. Dropping the fat carcass to the floor, he turned to his other relatives.

Petunia and Dudley stared unbelievingly at the corpse of their husband and father respectively; unable to comprehend he was actually dead. As she looked at his cold, empty eyes which stared at her, she let out a cry and screwed her eyes shut. Harry looked at the two terrified individuals and laughed a demented and maniacal laugh.

"Don't worry Auntie; we're just getting warmed up." He announced with a grin

It took Harry eight minutes to destroy his relative's both mentally and physically. Feeling the pent up anger from fifteen years of abuse bleed away as he got his revenge, he let out a contented sigh. As he glanced at a piece of the broken mirror, he noticed that his eyes had turned back to their normal emerald green.

After looking at the corpses of his hated relatives for a moment, he realised he was severely injured from his uncle's knife. Harry gently tugged at the blade, before wincing in pain.

"Yeah, that's staying in for now." He said with a sigh.

It was then that the severity of what he had done finally caught up with him. He had just murdered his relatives, brutally and without a care. Of course, no one knew that, aside from himself, as he had spelled the house before his rampage. He realised that he had to hide his actions for the time being, lest he find himself in Azkaban.

He paused for a moment and began to think of a way to indefinitely hide his actions. Finally, after a few minutes, he had a brainwave and smiled evilly.

He had a plan.

* * *

Remus Lupin sat in the lounge of 12 Grimmauld Place reading a book he had recently bought from a muggle bookshop nearby. After losing James, Lily and now Sirius, he desperately needed something to distract himself from his thoughts.

He had remembered Lily mentioning this series of books back during the first war, which she persuaded James to read. Written by some bloke called 'Tolkien' they were about another world filled with magic and creatures called 'Middle Earth'.

The books, 'The Lord of the Rings' were, in fact a very good read, and he could understand why she had told James to read them. It was surprisingly similar to their world back in the days of Merlin and King Arthur. It astonished him how blind the muggles could be to things around them, and how close the two worlds came without colliding.

As he read, he noticed a flash of white in the corner of his vision. Looking up, he noticed a stag bounding across the room toward him. Recognising it as Harry's patronus, he frowned as he realised he shouldn't be casting magic outside of school. Sitting upright and putting his book to one side, Lupin listened as the projection delivered its message.

"_Moony, I'm in danger. Privet Drive was…attacked and…and the Dursleys are dead. I'm in…injured. Please send help..."_ Harry's pained and tired voice faded.

As soon as the patronus vanished, Lupin bolted from his seat to the fireplace. He had to alert the Order. Throwing the green powder into the flames, he bellowed 'Hogwarts headmaster's office' before sticking his head into the flames.

"Albus; we have an emergency."

* * *

Five minutes after receiving the message, a group comprised of Dumbledore, Tonks, Lupin, McGonagall and Moody arrived on Privet Drive. As they made haste to the house, they noticed an ethereal projection hovering in the sky; the dark mark.

Breaking down the door with a _'reducto' _the Order members spilled into the house and made their way into the sitting room. Their eyes met with a horrible sight: the three Dursleys had been brutally murdered.

Vernon Dursley was lying in a pool of his own blood, his skin crimson from the leaking fluid. The whites of his eyes were black, having filled with blood also, which dripped out from the various orifices of his body.

Petunia Dursley was terrifying; she was crouched in the corner of the room, hands on both sides of her face, which was forever contorted into a silent scream. She was dead, but her body suggested that she may have only been cowering in fear from what she had witnessed only a few hours ago.

Dudley Dursley may well have been what scared Petunia to death. His body was arguably the most gruesome of the three; he had been pinned to the wall, with what appeared to be kitchen knives, by his limbs. Not only that, his chest had been cut open and his entrails dumped unceremoniously on the floor by his feet.

However, it was surprising to note that the area had surprisingly little blood on it around Dudley's corpse. It seemed as though someone had cast a spell preventing him from bleeding out, so as to feel the full pain of his disembowelment before dying.

Upon entering, Moody and his magical eye surveyed the gore indifferently. In all his years as a dark wizard hunter, he had seen things which were many times worse than this. His line of work made it a necessity to have a strong gut.

Tonks, however, immediately placed a hand on her mouth and ran out the house, vomiting onto the grass. She gave a hacking cough before throwing up a second time as the images crept back into her mind, burned into her vision.

McGonagall looked at the faces of the deceased individuals, looking at the terror in their eyes, before tears began to pour down her normally stern face. She knew how badly the Dursleys had treated Harry, but no one deserved to be brutalised like this.

Dumbledore looked at the bodies and let out a long sigh. He was disappointed and slightly saddened that they had been murdered, but was silently glad for their demise. He realised that these three individuals could have easily ruined all his plans had the wrong people interrogated them. Now they were dead, it meant three less loose ends.

Lupin stared at the corpses with a righteous gaze. If half the stuff Harry had let slip over the years had been true, and he didn't have any reason to think it wouldn't be, these three individuals deserved every ounce of what they had just been given. He was the first to break out of his thoughts, suddenly realising that they were there to help Harry. Turning away from the living room, he bounded up the stairs and walked over to his room.

As he approached, he noticed the tell-tale signs of a fight. The door itself had been caved in by a strong spell and the room was lined with burns from undirected spell fire. Outside the door, the corridor had received its fair share of burns, suggesting Harry didn't go down without a fight. As he fully entered, he saw the body of Harry lying flat on his back with a large blade protruding out of his chest. With a gasp he ran to his side and cast a spell stopping the blood around the wound. Grabbing his hand he tapped his cheek and squeezed his cold fingers.

"Harry, come on Harry, wake up! I got your message, we're here!" He checked his pulse and grinned when Harry gave a loud groan.

"M-moony?" He asked weakly.

"Yeah it's me Harry, now come on; you're not dying on me!" He began to lift Harry before he let out a small yelp of pain.

Putting him down, he realised he couldn't move him without doing more damage. Sensing someone entering the room, he turned to see Dumbledore surveying the scene. Giving him a brief nod, he activated a port-key and disappeared in a blue flash. Looking at the signs of the battle, Dumbledore sighed tiredly.

"Why can't something go right for a change?" He asked no one in particular.

With a flick of his wand all Harry's belongings were placed into his school trunk, which he cast a bottomless charm on and shrunk to put in his pocket. He knew the wards at Privet Drive would fall shortly, if they already hadn't. His mind wandered ruefully to the remains of the Dursleys downstairs.

"Who could have brutalised them like this?" He asked with a worried frown on his face.

Since the Dark Mark had been cast, Albus realised that the ministry would soon be in attendance. Hearing the faint 'pop' of the Ministry Aurors, Dumbledore sighed.

"Speak of the Devil." He muttered. Ordering the group to apparate away before they were seen, he vanished with an almost silent rustle. As the first Auror walked through the door, only two words passed his lips.

"Sweet, Merlin."

* * *

I'm sure many of you will read it and only see it as a repeat. It has been, however, worked on quite a bit, even just minor corrections! I hope you enjoy reading on! More chapters are coming, rather than just regurgitated content!

**This is the Quill, signing off!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two: Your conscience will be your guide…**

PLEASE DO NOT SKIP ANY PART OF THIS STORY! I understand you may read this and think it has been just repeated but there are new bits, I swear! Please read and enjoy!

* * *

Hermione laid in her bed, wide awake; her mind whirring and clicking as she thought about her best friend, Harry Potter.

These past few weeks had been hard on her friend, she knew, and she wished she could do more to help him. Not only had his impulsive actions lead the 'ministry six' as they had become known, to the department of mysteries on a fruitless rescue mission, resulting in his friends being injured, the man he went there to save, Sirius Black was killed also.

She knew he blamed himself entirely, when the blame was not his alone to bear. However, he had not been contacting anyone, other than brief notes to the Order assuring them that he was ok. Since she didn't have an owl of her own, she could not send a message to Harry encouraging him to open up.

With a sigh, she rolled onto her side and stared out of the window. She had left it open indefinitely with the hopes that a familiar white owl would fly through bringing a letter from him. The fact he was probably hurting was not the only reason she wanted to speak to him; she was having her own issues which she wanted resolved.

Since third year, Hermione Granger knew for a fact that she loved her friend Harry Potter. Not just in a platonic sense, but romantically as well. She had realised this while they had used the time turner to save Sirius Black. It was when they were riding on the back of Buckbeak, she realised how close the two were, when compared to Ron.

They had a connection which transcended the boundaries of a normal friendship. However, she didn't know whether Harry saw their relationship in the same way she did. Her insecurities and nervousness prevented her making a move on her feelings, which in turn was keeping her awake presently.

There were so many unknowns; would it change anything, would they work as a couple, would Harry feel the same way…all questions she didn't have an answer to. Every year she had promised herself that she would speak to Harry, only to be distracted by something or another, generally involving one of Harry's adventures.

'Not this time,' she thought firmly, 'the next time I see Harry I am going tell him how I feel and hope he feels the same way.'

As the thought crossed her mind, she heard a familiar fluttering outside the room. Her head turned to face the open window, a smile burst across her face when she saw a familiar snowy white owl.

"Hedwig!" She squealed happily.

The owl fluttered down onto a perch on Hermione's desk and hooted softly. She ran over and had to stop herself from squeezing the bird in a tight hug. Instead, she stroked the feathers on her wing and offered her an owl treat, which was taken gratefully.

Removing the letter from her foot, she tore open the parchment and read Harry's letter swiftly. What started as a smile, turned into a frown, which turned into another smile as she finished.

'I'm his best friend.' She thought with a contented smile.

It soon faded and she re-read the letter again, making sure to pick up everything he had written. She soon sat on her bed, deep in thought, trying to figure out how best to help her friend with his 'problem'.

Before she could make any real headway she shivered, feeling someone entering the wards around the property. While she couldn't use her wand outside of school, she was able to carve rune stones and place them around the property, giving her rudimentary wards.

Someone had passed the perimeter ward, but the malicious intent ward had not been triggered. There was a knock at the door and she ran downstairs to meet the guest. Opening it slightly, Hermione smiled when she saw Professor McGonagall standing there. She frowned slightly, noticing she looked quite tired and distressed.

"Hello Professor, are you alright? You don't look very well." She said warmly.

The professor smiled back, but it didn't reach her eyes. Before she could answer, her parents walked in the door, noticing their guest.

"Ah, Professor McGonagall," Mrs Granger greeted, holding out her hand, "it's good to see you again. Hermione's not in trouble is she?" The professor laughed and shook her head.

"No, I'm afraid the news isn't that simple." Hermione looked worried and the professor turned to favourite student. "Hermione, you may want to sit down." She nodded and moved over to a seat, gesturing for the professor to take one too.

"What is it, Professor? Has something happened?" The professor nodded.

"Ms Granger, yesterday evening Harry was…attacked at his relatives house." Hermione gasped and tears formed in her eyes.

"Is…is he ok?" She asked almost silently. McGonagall looked grim for a moment.

"Well, he is fine physically, the healers fixed him up quickly, but he had lost a lot of blood when we got there and was magically exhausted." Hermione swallowed but nodded. "He is currently in St. Mungos receiving treatment."

"Can I go see him?" She almost pleaded.

"Ms Granger, he isn't awake yet. They have put him in a magical sleep until they are sure he has recovered enough." Hermione looked defiant.

"Harry came and sat by my side, talking to me and keeping me company while I was petrified, even though he had been told I wouldn't be able to hear him or know he was there." She began to cry slightly.

"I want to do the same for him." McGonagall smiled at her devotion, looking to her parents, for some sort of confirmation, who nodded in agreement.

"Very well Ms Granger; I will take you to see him." She turned back to her parents. "Might I suggest that you move into the Order headquarters until further notice? With the attack on Harry, we are improving the protections around all properties related to us." Her face turned grim. "We don't know who Voldemort will attack next." Hermione's parents shared a look, communicating silently before nodding in agreement.

"Give us a few hours to pack and we'll join you."

* * *

Harry sat up, looked at his current surroundings, trying to remember where he was. Back tracking mentally, he remembered the letter, the pensieve, the memories…and butchering his relatives. He stifled a shiver as the air around him became suddenly cold. He noticed that he could see his breath as it hit the cold air.

'Why is it so cold?' He thought curiously. He moved on the spot to warm up. 'God I wish it was warmer.' As soon as the thought crossed his mind the air warmed up, turning into a warm summer's evening, rather than an autumn night.

Ignoring the fact that the weather had changed when he wanted it to, marking it off as a coincidence, he looked around once more, trying to figure out where he was.

His surroundings were dark and the moon cast a dim light over the branches of what appeared to be a thick forest. It wasn't quite as eerie or foreboding as the forbidden forest, but it was still unnerving.

Remembering a survival programme he had caught when his relatives had been out shopping, he pulled out his wand and sent some red sparks into the sky, acting like a flare. Realising help would not come instantly; he sat down leaning against a tree, before casting a few rudimentary wards around him to warn against an unknown presence.

He sat in silence for about half an hour, letting his mind wander, before a shiver alerted him to a presence. Just as he was about to look up, he heard a gentle cough from somewhere in front of him. Looking up, he was surprised to see another person in this forest.

The man was slightly taller than Harry with dark brown hair. His face was expressionless, but he seemed to have a relatively kind and positive aura, albeit with a hint of darkness. His eyes were a dark shade of red and he was dressed in a set of black robes, oddly reminiscent of Hogwarts school robes.

Looking at the individual warily, Harry subtly moved his wand flush against his leg, pointing at the newcomer, should he try to attack him. Apparently, he noticed this subtle shift and chuckled before holding out his hand.

"Hello Harry James Potter, it's a pleasure to meet you again in person."

Harry eyed his hand warily, before taking it. The man pulled him to his feet, before taking a few steps back. Dusting himself off, he looked at the man carefully.

"Likewise, but I don't think we've met." Harry replied. The man nodded and took another step back.

"Understandable. The last time we met you were only a baby, and I hardly came under the best pretences." Harry raised an eyebrow and the man sighed.

"Listen; I know for a fact that if I tell you who I am that you will try to curse me and run away. If I tell you who I am, you must promise not to run away and hear me out – alright?" Harry stared at him suspiciously for a moment before nodding and putting his wand away.

"Alright then, I'll put my wand away. Now tell me who you are and how you know who I am." The man nodded and took yet another step back. They were now standing a far distance apart.

"Very well, my name is…" He paused, swallowing slightly "…Tom Marvolo Riddle." He finished tentatively. Harry immediately tensed and his hand shifted to his pocket where his wand was stored. He glared at the man before him.

"_Voldemort_…" He spat. "…what the hell do you want?" Riddle went red in the face and growled at Harry.

"My name IS NOT…_VOLDEMORT_!" He said, spitting the last word in disgust.

Harry blinked in surprise and was taken aback by the younger version of Riddle. Voldemort had never denied his self-given name before; much less speak it with such venom. Still not sure, his hand fell from his pocket but stayed near.

"I'm sorry, but please enlighten me; the last time we met you were furious when Dumbledore called you by your muggle name; why the change?" He asked. Riddle sighed and raked his hand through his hair, oddly reminiscent of Harry's own gesture of frustration

"Simply put, I am not the Riddle you know from your world. I am the Riddle from before I created those abominations called horcruxes." Harry's eyebrows disappeared into his hair line, before his eyes narrowed into a scathing glare.

"What do you mean my world? As far as I'm aware we both share the same world." Riddle rolled his eyes in exasperation.

"Potter; do you know where we are?" Harry looked around before shaking his head. "No, I didn't think so. We are, at present, inside your mind." Harry gasped and growled at him.

"Get out of my head Riddle!" He shouted. Grabbing his wand out of his pocket, he was surprised when it flew from his hand into Riddle's.

"You gave me your word that you would wait until I had explained." Harry seethed quietly, before regaining composure and glaring at Riddle.

Seeing him calm down, he tossed his wand back, which he slid into his jeans pocket. Still annoyed, he waved his hand in a 'get on with it' gesture.

"Fine, explain what you are doing in my mind and why I shouldn't try to expel you." Riddle held his head in his hands and sighed.

"Well, you shouldn't try to expel me because you can't. You would only succeed in putting us both in a large amount of pain and damaging your body further." Harry was still not convinced, making Riddle rub his eyes.

"You know, I honestly didn't think it would be this hard to get you to understand. I've been planning this conversation for years, but I didn't think you would be so stubborn." Harry only increased his glare at Riddle, who paused and changed tactic.

"Right; I know how I can get you to trust me." He grinned slightly. "'For pities sake, just put your goddamn head in the bowl, you bloody wimp!'" Harry gaped.

"Wait…you…_you're_ my inner voice?!" He asked incredulously. Riddle sighed.

"Yes. I've been helping you for over ten years now, giving you advice and serving as your conscience. Not really the act of an evil dark lord, is it?" He asked smiling slightly.

Harry thought back for a moment, remembering all the times his voice had given him advice over the years. It had all been useful and insightful. If what Riddle was telling him was true, then he at least deserved a change to explain himself properly.

"Alright, you've got me; it isn't really 'dark lord-ish' behaviour." He said with a grin making Riddle chuckle. "Do you want to explain?" He smiled and nodded.

"All righty then, I suppose a good place to start would be the beginning; this all began on the Halloween night your parent's died." Harry's eyes narrowed and he nodded. "When I…when _Voldemort_ tried to kill you that night, the killing curse rebounded, severing his soul from his body. Not only that, the curse split his soul in two, making you a horcrux." Harry looked confused.

"Sorry, but what's a horcrux?" He asked. Riddle scowled.

"A piece of disgusting and evil magic; a horcrux is basically a soul container. When a magical being kills an innocent in cold blood, the soul becomes fractured. Horcrux magic basically tears a portion of the soul off the main body and traps it into an object." Harry paled.

"A-and I'm one of these…_horcruxes_?" He asked quietly. Riddle nodded.

"What _Voldemort_ didn't realise when he created those abominations, is that only the truly evil part of the individual remains in the body. Every time one is created, the good portion of the soul is split and confined into an object. When the curse rebounded it split me from the original soul and I became trapped in the only form available to me at that time – you." Harry nodded in understanding.

"As the years went by, I saw the abuse and torture you were put under by the Dursleys and Dumbledore, and wanted to help. After much effort I finally managed to make a link between our souls, enough for me to speak to you and give simple advice." Harry's eyes turned distrustful again and Riddle spoke quickly.

"I didn't try to turn you 'evil' Harry – if I had tried to, the outcomes would have been obvious; for a start, you would have been a Slytherin not a Gryffindor." Harry nodded. "I only tried to give good advice; the benefit of a few years of wisdom." Harry sighed slightly.

"So what I did to the Dursleys…that had nothing to do with you?" He asked quietly. Riddle shook his head.

"No it didn't, but to be honest, I have wanted to brutalise that family for over ten years. I simply don't have the ability to influence your actions directly. I can advise you, but the choice is still yours. The actions you took were the result of over fifteen years of pent up rage from the abuse and neglect from that family plus the anger from losing your memories to Dumbledore." Harry nodded and looked back up at Riddle.

"I guess I just wanted someone to blame. I have never done what I did to them before. I was just so angry…" He trailed off and his shoulder's slumped. Riddle put a hand on his shoulder.

"Don't feel sorry for those…those…" he paused while trying to find an insult "…_bastards_, Harry. They deserved every ounce of what you gave them. If anything, I think you were a little lenient; fifteen years of torture compared to a few minutes of same doesn't really match up." Harry nodded absently as he thought, before shaking his head and returning to the conversation.

"So…if we are in my mind, then how did we get here? Why are we here? Am I asleep?" He asked quietly. Riddle shrugged slightly.

"Well, don't forget that you took a knife to the chest. You were lying in your room for quite a while. At this moment, we are laying in a bed in St. Mungos in a sort of…magically induced coma." Harry nodded. "But you are here in your mind because I brought you here." Harry frowned slightly.

"Then why _did_ you bring me here?"

"I decided it was about time I revealed myself to you and…show my cards, as it were." He finished with a flourish of his hand. Harry raised an eyebrow.

"Right, you have two options available to you; one, I can continue to just be your inner voice and give you advice when it is needed. Or two, I can teach you and offer my knowledge to help you defeat Voldemort." Harry looked unsure so Riddle decided to elaborate.

"Harry, you must remember that I am the good portion of Tom Riddle. While I am still…a bit dark and have a _little_ nasty side, it is nowhere _near_ the level of Voldemort." Harry nodded.

"I know Tom, I'm just…I'm not sure I could…I just hate the idea of killing someone." Riddle nodded, putting his hand on his shoulder.

"I do get what you mean, but in my opinion, you are simply too tied up by your morality. Yes, having morals is good, but there are people in the world who do _not_ deserve your compassion or mercy…death eaters for example." He stepped away and began to pace while he explained.

"For instance, in a battle as part of the Order, Dumbledore would have you stun them all, before handing them over to the ministry to give them a 'fair trial'." The last two words were laced in sarcasm. "That worked well in the first war, didn't it? People like Malfoy got away scot free and were able to further pollute the magical world." Harry's gaze darkened and he nodded.

"You see what I mean? How about another example? What about the Dursleys?" Harry's face drooped as he remembered his actions. "Harry, they were _monsters_, don't feel sorry for them!" He paused while trying to explain. "When Petunia asked you to stop, you began to consider their plea. Did she mean it? No, she saw her husband coming up behind you with a knife. She was trying to slow you down so they could hurt you!" Harry still looked undecided.

"I think I see what is making you conflicted; you are afraid that if you use my knowledge of the dark arts and adopt my views, you will end up like Voldemort." Harry nodded sadly.

"Well, I can tell you for fact that you are wrong. What separates you and Voldemort is this sense of morality, the guilt you feel after killing someone. Morality is both a gift and a curse. Voldemort didn't have it and he never will. He can kill without batting an eyelash and will never feel guilty." Harry nodded and looked at him with tears in his eyes.

"But you don't have that issue. The Dursleys were an abomination on humanity, treating you cruelly for most of your life. Yet, now after you've killed them, even after all they've done, you still feel guilt. That compassion for human life, no matter how evil, that's what separates you. 'It is not how you are the same, but how you are different.'" Harry laughed slightly at his Dumbledore impersonation and nodded.

"Thanks for that Tom." Riddle patted his shoulder and nodded. "If you truly want to help me, then I accept. You've supported me for this long; I think I can accept more help." Riddle smiled. "So, what happens now?" Harry asked, wiping the tears away.

"Well, any moment now, you will wake up in bed at St. Mungos." Riddle grinned evilly before continuing. "Oh, and a certain 'bushy haired' girl is there too, you know, the one you made a promise about?" Harry blushed. "Remember, I will be watching that you keep your promise." Harry nodded.

"Oh, that reminds me, don't forget about the pensieve; remember what the letter told us, Hermione needs to gather her memories as well." Harry nodded grimly before pulling Riddle into a loose hug, much to his shock and surprise.

"That's a thank you for the years you have helped me maintain my sanity." Riddle smiled. "Who would have thought I would be thanking Tom Marvolo Riddle for helping me." They both chuckled and Harry felt something pulling him away.

"Good luck Harry, I'll be there all the way. Just think to me and I'll listen." Harry nodded and closed his eyes.

* * *

As Harry opened his eyes, he saw that Riddle was dead right.

He lay in a hospital bed, surrounded by the sleeping forms of Lupin, McGonagall and Hermione. As his eyes reached Hermione, who lay with her head on his chest, he smiled. Lifting his hand, he stroked her hair gently, eliciting a moan from the sleeping girl.

Chuckling softly, the movement woke her up and she blinked owlishly at the person stroking her hair. She squealed when she saw a pair of emerald eyes staring back, before pulling him in a hug causing Harry to wince in pain. As he pulled away, he could see the tears of happiness running down her face and he smiled.

"Hey there Hermione, what's going on?" She giggled at him and leant back on his chest.

"Oh, nothing much, you know; the usual." She said smiling. Harry laughed quietly and the pair looked at each other, unmoving.

'God she's stunning,' Harry thought with a sigh, 'especially when she gives me that beautiful smile.' Any further comment on her beauty was cut off by a shot from Riddle.

_Would you just kiss her already or something? You promised me and you owe her – just go for it… wimp! _Harry laughed inwardly.

Meanwhile, Hermione was warring with herself too. Part of her remembered the promise to talk to Harry about her feelings, but the other was trying to make excuses not to go ahead with it.

'Should I just kiss him?' She thought nervously. 'I guess that could be considered telling him my feelings.' She added with a mental snort.

Surprisingly to both Harry and Hermione, they moved forward to kiss the other at the same time, meeting in the middle. The surprise was momentary, however, and before long they were returning the kiss.

Harry brought his arms around her waist and she around his neck. After a few minutes, they broke apart and panted happily, recovering from the lack of breathing.

"Well," Harry said with a grin, "that ruins everything I had planned doesn't it?" She quirked an eyebrow "You see, I had a whole bit planned, where I would tell you my feelings and wait until you slapped me or kissed me."

"Do you mean that?" She asked breathily. Harry nodded and she squealed happily, capturing him in another kiss.

They both suddenly remembered that they were not alone in the room and turned around. Thankfully, Lupin and McGonagall were still asleep. The pair sighed in relief, thanking the gods they were heavy sleepers. Harry lifted his hand and cupped her cheek, stroking it with his thumb, while Hermione closed her eyes and leant into his touch.

"Hermione, before the attack, I was thinking about things…life, the universe and everything…" The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy reference got a laugh out of Hermione "…And I realised just how important you are to me, and how distraught I was when I saw you getting hit by that curse." He paused with a sigh.

"When I saw you fall, my heart just stopped. It wasn't until Neville was able to check that you were ok that I could calm down." She smiled sadly.

"I-I think I love you Hermione. I say think because I'm not sure what love is; but if it's the feeling of contentment and happiness you get when the person is near, or the burst of warmth when that person smiles at you, or the sadness and emptiness when that person isn't around, I am most definitely, one hundred per cent in love with you Hermione Granger." Tears began to fall down her face and she captured his lips in a soul-searing kiss.

"I never thought I would hear you say those words." She said tearfully. "What you described was a perfect definition of love. I love you too Harry." He smiled and pulled her into a tight hug, kissing her neck gently.

"I guess there is only one other question then." He said quietly. "Hermione Granger, will you be my girlfriend?" As the question passed his lips, her mind exploded in happiness. From Harry's point of view, she gasped, squealed and finally smashed her lips against his. After a few heated minutes, they broke apart and Harry laughed.

"Is that a yes?" She nodded, giggling and slapped his arm playfully.

A huge smile burst across his face and he pulled her into another hug. After a few minutes, she settled back down, lying on his chest, holding him tightly as he held her. Kissing her head gently, he leant back and fell asleep, smiling in happiness. Before he fell asleep, he thought to his new friend.

'Thank you Tom…for everything.' His conscience chuckled.

_You're welcome Harry. Now you better get some rest._ Harry yawned and closed his eyes.

* * *

Ta Da! I hope you enjoyed reading as much as I enjoy writing! More is coming! At the moment, I am struggling to find out how to end chapter four but three is finished! Please read on!

**This is the Quill, signing off!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three: I remember…**

Here is Chapter Three! Same spiel as last time; I have worked on it but it may seem like the same stuff! I promise you, its not! Please read and review!

* * *

Voldemort sat on his throne in silence, contemplating his latest defeat at the hands of his nemesis, Harry Potter.

After finally realising that he and the boy shared a mental connection, he had tried to use it to his advantage. He knew that a copy of the confounded prophecy which had gotten him defeated previously sat in the department of mysteries. However, only the people the prophecy involves can retrieve it from its plinth.

He had planted a false vision of himself torturing the boy's godfather into his mind, hoping he would retrieve the sphere. However, while the boy did follow the vision, his minions had failed to retrieve it. The ball was destroyed in the confusion and only one of them had returned. Worse, the ministry were forced to acknowledge his existence, taking away the element of surprise.

Needless to say, a number of his Death Eaters had been _crucio'd_ for their failure.

While he was planning his next course of action, one of his most loyal Death Eaters entered his chambers, and knelt before his throne.

"Severus. Why are you here?" Snape flinched, before speaking.

"My Lord, I have news regarding the Potter boy." Voldemort stared at him for a moment, before gesturing with his wand to continue.

"Speak, Severus. What news do you have of the boy?"

"My Lord, the boy…the boy w-was attacked." Voldemort looked startled.

"What do you mean attacked; by whom?"

"I do not know my Lord. According to Dumbledore, Potter sent a patronus message to the werewolf Lupin, who in turn alerted the Order. When they arrived, his muggle relatives had been tortured to death and Potter was found badly wounded." Voldemort looked thoughtful.

"My Lord…t-the dark mark was cast above the property." Voldemort's eyes snapped up at this, his red eyes burrowing into Snape's head.

"Impossible; I did not send anyone to attack Potter. But then who cast the mark? The spell is not known outside my minions." He twirled his wand while thinking. "What does the Order know of this?"

"My Lord, the Order believes that you were responsible. No one knows anything more about it. Potter is still unconscious and there were no witnesses. The property had strong ward spells cast upon it preventing anyone outside from interfering." Voldemort growled at the lack of information, but relented.

"Severus, we must find out who has taken the boy. If someone else kills Potter then my plans will be ruined. Inform me of any developments made by the Order. Now, leave me. I must make plans." Snape bowed low and headed out of the room. "And next time, come with better information; _CRUCIO_!"

Snape fell to the ground and withed in pain, until Voldemort released the curse. Still shaking from the spell, he bowed weakly and made his way from his master's presence. He needed to know what had happened to the Potter brat before the dark lord ended his life.

* * *

"…fine when he woke up during the night. He was a little bit sore but…" The voice faded out again while Harry teetered into consciousness.

"…woken since then? His wounds have healed but we need him to be awake to finish our medical assessment. Once he is awake, we could probably…" Harry struggled to listen to the conversation but he felt so tired. With an almighty effort, he opened his heavy eyes and looked around his hospital room.

He could see Lupin, McGonagall, Mr and Mrs Weasley and Hermione listening to a healer who was reading off a clipboard. Unable to move very much, he fought to stay awake until his eyes met the healers.

"Ah, Mr Potter, you're awake." Everyone turned around to look at Harry, and was dove upon by a bushy haired missile.

"Harry, you're awake! I'm so glad you're ok." She said, slightly tearfully. He smiled and tried to speak, with no sounds coming out. He frowned slightly at his lack of speech to which the healer reassured him.

"Do not panic, Mr Potter, your body is simply very, very tired. According to Ms Granger you woke up last night while you were still under a magical deep sleep spell." He nodded. "Ah, well it takes a lot of strength to fight off a spell like that, which exhausted your body. A few more hours sleep and you will be fine." Harry nodded and his eyes started to close. Before he fell asleep, he heard Hermione speaking to him quietly.

"Don't worry Harry; I'll stay here until you wake up. Just get some…" His eyes closed and he fell asleep almost immediately.

After what seemed to be a few minutes, Harry opened his eyes again, feeling much more energetic than he had previously. Looking around, he noticed that the room was empty. Before he could voice it, Tom answered his question.

_Don't worry Harry; they've only stepped out for a bit to get some food. Hermione never left your side._ Harry smiled and thanked Tom mentally.

Lifting his hand weakly, he grasped a glass of water from a bedside table and drank deeply from it. His throat had been burning from lack of moisture and the water soothed it no end. The glass appeared to be self-filling so he had multiple drinks before placing it back on the side table.

Shortly afterwards, the door opened and Hermione walked in, closely followed by Remus. She squealed and ran to his side pulling him into a tight hug, which he returned. Remus chuckled lightly and took a seat.

"Good to see you awake, Harry." Lupin said with a smile. Harry smiled back and mouthed 'thank you', still unable to form any words. Hermione took his hand and squeezed it gently, drawing his attention.

"We were all worried Harry." She said, eyes glistening. "I-I thought I'd lose you." Harry smiled and kissed her on the lips. Leaning back, he stroked he cheek and mouthed 'never' with a smile. She smiled back and leant into his touch. Remus drew back their attention with a light cough causing the pair to blush.

"Sorry to interrupt Harry, but I need to ask you some questions." Harry gave Remus a mock-glare before grinning and nodding in understanding. "Alright then; what do you remember from the attack?" Harry thought for a moment, before motioning for a quill and some parchment. Hermione produced these implements quickly and Harry nodded in thanks.

He then began to write on the piece of parchment before handing it to Hermione, who understanding the gesture, began to read it out.

"'Not much important; I was upstairs in my room when I heard shouting downstairs. I didn't think much of it because my uncle is nearly always shouting at something or another. After about ten minutes, I realised it had become almost silent in the house, which was unusual since the Dursleys nearly always watch television later in the day.'" Harry smirked at this bit.

"'I tried to listen for any signs of movement, and heard the sixth stair squeak. I thought someone might be outside so I got into a defensive position and waited. The door suddenly crashed open and people began to cast spells randomly inside. I sent some spells back stunning a few of them, before one of them caught me in the shoulder. They _Ennervated_ me and began to rant about how they'd bested me and murdered my relatives.'" Hermione began to shake slightly so Harry stroked her hand to reassure her.

"'I could see from their clothes that they were death eaters. They didn't take off their masks though. Then for some reason, instead of killing me straight off, they put me under a body bind and brought in a kitchen knife. The one who had been speaking muttered something I couldn't understand, before slamming the knife into my stomach. I tried to scream but the body bind stopped me.'" Hermione began to cry as she read the note, so Harry squeezed her hand to comfort her.

"'Then they left as quickly as they came. I knew I was bleeding out but I was still unable to move so I tried to fight the spell. After a while I managed to move my hand and grab my wand to send a message to you. The spell used up my last energy and I fell unconscious.'" Remus nodded and took the note off Hermione.

"Thank you Harry. Do you mind if I take this, to save me relating it from word of mouth?" Harry shrugged and Lupin smiled. "Alright, well I need to get this to Dumbledore. I won't be too long, so don't do anything _strenuous_ alright Harry?" As he finished he grinned wolfishly at the pair who blushed bright red. He laughed good-naturedly and left the room.

As soon as the door closed, Hermione pounced on Harry, lying on his chest. She smiled beautifully, looking into his eyes and he wrapped his arms around her waist loosely. He gave her a lopsided grin and kissed her forehead.

"Hi." He whispered hoarsely. Hermione giggled and kissed him on the nose.

"Hi, yourself." They laughed for a bit before settling into each other's embrace. After a while, Hermione frowned and bit her lip, making Harry tickle her in the ribs.

"What's the matter 'Mione?" He said softly. She gave him a mock-glare, still recovering from the tickling before sighing.

"I was just wondering…did you mean what you said yesterday?" He tilted his head at her in confusion.

"What? Do you mean when I said I loved you?" She bit her lip and nodded. Harry rolled his eyes and smiled.

"_Of course_ not, I've made a _terrible_ mistake." He said with sarcasm dripping off every word. She slapped him playfully and leant into his chest. "Of course I meant what I said. Why would I lie, or change my mind? You are a brilliantly amazing girl and I would be a fool to turn you away." She blushed and smiled.

"I'm sorry. I suppose it's just my insecurities surfacing. I don't know what you see in me." She said sadly. Harry grinned impishly.

"You know, if I didn't know you better, I'd say you were fishing for compliments." She giggled and slapped his arm in jest.

"Hermione, you truly are an amazing person. I know what people used to say, and you know what? I must be the one eyed man in the city of the blind." She giggled. "You are beautiful, smart, courageous, loyal, kind and have the capacity to care for people greatly; you are perfection in my eyes." He kissed her on the lips to seal his comments.

"Thank you Harry. It means a lot to hear you say that." Harry smiled and kissed her forehead lightly.

"So Hermione, how long have I been out and who has been here to see me?" Harry asked.

"Well, you've been out for about three days and basically everyone has come to visit you." She said softly. "The Weasleys, Hagrid, Lupin, Tonks, McGonagall, Dumbledore…" As the last name passed her lips Harry growled, which startled her.

_Harry, I think you need to tell her about the pensieve…and what really happened yesterday_. He nodded inwardly. Calmed himself and hiding his hatred of the headmaster, he held her cheeks before kissing her lightly on the lips.

"Hermione, I need to tell you something, but could you get something for me first?" She nodded. "Do you know where my belongings are?" She stood up and moved over to the corner of the room which was occupied by his trunk. "Right, can you open it and take out the large wooden box and bring it here." She did so.

"Harry, what is this?" She asked quietly, looking at the stone bowl as Harry set it up. He looked at her and smiled.

"Hermione, do you trust me?" She nodded. "Ok, well before I was 'attacked' I got a letter from someone claiming to be a friend. The letter told me that someone had been _Obliviating_ me regularly." Hermione's hand shot to her mouth.

"That's not the worst part; it…it wasn't just me." She gulped slightly and paled. "Hermione, that bowl was given to me to help us recover our memories. I've got mine back already, now it's your turn." She nodded but looked hesitant. He smiled in understanding and squeezed her hand reassuringly.

"Trust me; it will hurt a little bit and you will have a pounding headache afterwards, but you will understand and remember." She nodded and moved over to the bowl. Before she put her head in, she pulled out her wand and cast a sealing and silencing charm on the door.

Harry watched carefully, as she placed her head beneath the silvery surface of the bowl. Her whole body tensed as she was racked in pain and a tear shot down Harry's cheek. After a few minutes, she pulled her head out and looked at Harry breathlessly.

In that few minutes, hundreds of memories flashed before her eyes, returning to their correct places in her mind. She felt tainted, having had someone steal her memories so easily from her mind made her feel unclean. Much like Harry, only one name stuck out.

'_Dumbledore_…' She growled mentally.

Looking at Harry, she saw the tears on his face. Smiling tearfully, she realised he was crying for her and she grabbed him in a hug. Pulling back, they looked at each other, focusing on the other's eyes. Tears poured down their faces.

"I remember." She said simply.

Harry smiled and kissed her warmly on the lips. As soon as she had gotten her memories, the bowl began to disintegrate, the memories floating away, dissipating into nothingness. They sat down, hand in hand, staring at the spot the bowl had been. Remembering what Tom had said, he turned her back to face him, kissing her hand and looked at her apologetically.

"Hermione; there is something I need to tell you, but I want to tell you about my life before Hogwarts first." She nodded in understanding.

During the half an hour, Harry told Hermione about his dark childhood. He told her about every beating, every injury, as much as he could remember. His girlfriend listened, only her eyes betraying her emotions; they were filled with an understanding of his pain and hurt, tears pouring down her cheeks.

After that, he moved on to tell her the truth about Privet Drive. As he spoke, tears ran down his face, becoming more and more distressed by the memories as he went. After explaining why he lied to her, he dropped his head in shame and a single tear fell down his cheek. After letting it sink in, Hermione lifted his chin and looked into his teary emerald eyes. Wiping away the tears from his cheeks, she kissed him passionately.

"Harry; don't you dare feel sorry for those monsters." Harry looked surprised. "What, did you think I would lecture you on how it was wrong and how you should be ashamed?" He nodded, looking at her expectantly.

"Harry; they abused you for the majority of your life; mentally and physically, yet here you stand a perfect example of a human being. You aren't cold or cruel like so many would have become. Your actions were the result of righteous anger for nearly fifteen years of pain and hurt." He smiled and pulled her into a hug. "In addition, if you hadn't done it but still told me about all this, I would have killed them myself." Harry looked shocked, before grinning.

"I love you so much Hermione. Every second I spend with you I can't help but love you more. I'm glad we're together right now." She smiled and they laid down on the bed, Hermione cuddled into his chest. After a few minutes, Harry sighed and she looked at him.

"What's wrong, Harry?" He grimaced slightly.

"I was just thinking…we need to talk about our memories." She turned grim and nodded. "I don't know about you, but only one name comes up consistently." She nodded and growled menacingly.

"_Dumbledore…_" She said venomously. Harry nodded in agreement. "That bastard, how dare he mess with our memories?! I just can't understand why he would go this far." Harry turned pale and sighed.

"I do." Her eyes snapped to his. "Did I ever tell you the prophecy?" She shook her head.

"How do you know it? Wasn't it destroyed in the ministry?" He nodded.

"Yes it was, but do you remember the name on the plinth?" She thought for a moment, before her eyes widened.

"A.P.W.B.D…that _bastard_; he knew the prophecy and never told you?!" He shook his head sadly. "Why didn't he?! The entire ministry episode could have been avoided…" Harry shuddered and nodded, tears forming in his eyes.

"…and Sirius would still be alive." She pulled him into a hug as his grief finally spilled over. Having repressed it for so long, he vented his anguish while she held him. He cried for a few minutes, before finally calming down. She wiped his face softly with her thumbs and looked at him in the eyes.

"Mark my words Harry; that manipulative bastard will get what's coming to him! He is so going down!" He laughed darkly.

"Damn right he is; I'm going to tear him limb from limb, but keep him alive and awake so he feels every ounce of pain!" Hermione shivered slightly from Harry's words; she felt more attracted to him at that moment than she ever had.

"Just be sure that you leave some for me." He laughed and nodded. "So Harry; what does the prophecy say?" He shuddered.

"'The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches...born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies...and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not...and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives...the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies...'" Hermione gasped and shivered.

"So…that means...one of you must to kill the other one…in the end?" Harry nodded grimly.

"Yes." They were silent for a moment, until Hermione spoke.

"Well then, I guess that means we train." Harry looked surprised. "Harry; I am _not_ going to leave you to fight alone…never. I stood by you before, I will until the day I die." He smiled.

"I wouldn't have it any other way." He leant forwards and captured her lips in a kiss. They held it for a few minutes before they broke apart for air.

"First things first; we need to get away from the Order." Hermione looked startled.

"Why? Surely we just to distance ourselves from Dumbledore?" Harry sighed.

"Hermione; the majority of the Order thinks the sun shines out of Dumbledore's backside." She giggled. "Who will they believe? And even if they did help us, chances are Dumbledore would just obliviate them too." She sighed.

"I see what you mean." Harry yawned loudly, making her laugh. "Am I boring you Harry?" She asked playfully. He laughed and shook his head.

"No, no, I'm just very tired all of a sudden." She nodded understandingly.

"Well, you _are_ still recovering from quite a serious wound; a few hours' sleep would probably do you good." He nodded, yawning again. As she was about to climb off his chest, he shuffled over in his bed, leaving room for her. She smiled impishly.

"We've only been going out for a few hours and he's already trying to get me into bed…oh, the shame!" She finished pretending to faint. Harry's face flushed bright red and she laughed.

Taking him up on his offer, she lay next to him on the bed, cuddling into his shoulder, while he wrapped his arm around her waist. They both fell asleep in minutes.

* * *

There we are, Chapter Three! Now, before I get a lot of angry messages about re-releasing similar stuff, chapter four is completely new and coming soon! I hope you do continue reading!

**This is the Quill, signing off!**


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